6:00 a.m. Wake up. Look at clock. Remember it’s Sunday. Go back to sleep.7:30 a.m. Wake up when Otto gets up. Go back to sleep.8:30 a.m. Hear Otto making coffee. Get up.8:35 a.m. COOOOOOOFFEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE.8:45 a.m. Put turkey breast in crock pot.8:50 a.m. Field Chickadee’s inquisition; she is certainly not eating any of that GROSS ANIMAL in the crock for dinner, so what is she having? Is that cranberry sauce on the turkey? Did I save her any? Because she is NOT EATING CRANBERRY SAUCE THAT TOUCHED TURKEY, MOM.8:55 a.m. I give up my sanguine replies about how I have unfailingly accommodated her choice to avoid meat for the last two and a half years and instead suggest that with just a little bit of work, she could be in full-blown eating disorder status and should let me know if I can slice her some celery to gnaw on.9:00 a.m. Monkey—who has been vibrating with excitement for the last hour—asks if maybe I think they should start, you know, looking for something? Maybe? Just in case there’s something around?9:01 a.m. I do my best to look contrite and say, “Oh my gosh, you guys, I totally forgot to put your baskets out last night! I guess you can take a look, anyway, but… I’m sorry.” 9:10 a.m. The house looks like a tornado hit it. Every cabinet door is open. Chickadee has been heard yelling status updates to her brother like, “Nothing in the shower!” and “Not under my bed!”9:12 a.m. I take pity on the children and hand Monkey a can to take out to the recycling bin for me.9:13 a.m. Monkey enters the garage. Monkey yells for his sister.9:14 a.m. Hooray, the Easter Bunny brought a little candy and… new scooters! (It’s possible the Easter Bunny lucked out on a price mistake at Amazon a while back. Ahem.)9:20 a.m. A couple of brave chocolate bunnies lose their butts to the miracle of the resurrection (and Mom allowing candy before breakfast).10:00 a.m. Pancakes!10:10 a.m. Brief discussion of how we are going to resume looking for a church, but Easter is probably not the right day to try a new church because it will be very crowded.10:12 a.m. Prolonged discussion of how I was raised Jewish but converted to Christianity and have mostly favored Methodist churches, and Otto was raised Catholic and has mostly favored… being a recovering Catholic. Discussion of the differences between various arms of Protestantism. Discussion of the history of misogyny and racism in various sects.10:35 a.m. Otto announces that we shall celebrate the holiday with yard work! Hooray! The children are dispatched to get dressed.10:36 a.m. Otto explains to me that the kids can help him dig a trench in the yard for some drainage pipe he plans to put down.10:38 a.m. I finish laughing at Otto.10:39 a.m. Otto asks if I must mock him. I affirm that I must.10:45 a.m. The kids ask if they can go ride their scooters around for a bit before Otto needs them. I tell Chickadee to stay with her brother and send them off.10:47 a.m. While getting dressed, I experience a flicker of foreboding, but dismiss it because I am being overprotective and silly.11:03 a.m. Chickadee returns to the house to report that Monkey went flying off his scooter and is probably hurt. “It’s okay, though,” she says, “because I dragged him out of the middle of the road, so probably he won’t get run over.”11:04 a.m. Right as I’m about to ask why she didn’t stay with him, Monkey comes gliding down the driveway and throws his scooter to the ground.11:05 a.m. The scooter is stupid. The road is stupid. He is BLEEDING and probably DYING and what is WRONG with the Easter Bunny, giving kids DEATH TRAP SCOOTERS, anyway? Does he HATE CHILDREN?11:07 a.m. Apparently I haven’t been sympathetic enough. At least, this is what I conclude after Monkey SHRIEKS IN MY FACE, at which point what little sympathy I had dries up right quick. I sent him to his room to calm down.11:08 – 11:15 a.m. Stomping, screaming, crying, wailing. Most of it related to how no one loves him and he is bleeding to death.11:16 a.m. A somewhat contrite Monkey comes down to apologize for having yelled at me.11:17 a.m. I dress the victim’s wounds. For the record, I am only able to find a single droplet of blood, though he does have a pretty interesting superficial layer of road rash.11:30 a.m. Everyone heads outdoors to work!11:35 a.m. Otto concedes that my puny children are going to be useless when it comes to chopping through the Georgia clay, and instead tasks them with dragging a stack of brush out into the forest.11:37 a.m. I tether the dog out by my garden boxes, where I am weeding, prepping the soil, and otherwise planning to start Gardenpalooza 2011.11:38 a.m. The dog cries because no one is petting her.11:45 a.m. The children sidle up to where I’m working, hoping to get out of dragging brush. They’ll help me! Look at how helpful they are!11:46 a.m. Monkey rips the tops off a few weeds and Chickadee unearths an anthill in one of my boxes and screams like a little girl.11:47 a.m. The kids go back to dragging brush.12:30 p.m. The children take a break, commenting on how hot it is and how hard they’re working. They sit on the deck steps and pet the dog. I suggest they get her some water and ask that they get some for me and Otto, too.12:40 p.m. Everyone has some water.12:45 p.m. Licorice manages to knock over my water cup, which goes from being half-empty to completely empty. WOE.12:46 p.m. I mutter something about HOW FITTING it all is and suddenly the kids decide to go back to dragging brush.1:30 p.m. I dump an entire wheelbarrow of weeds and cleared brush into the compost pile, and attempt to extract some readied compost for my boxes.1:32 p.m. I bat my eyelashes at Otto and he takes a break from trench-digging to turn over the compost and fill the wheelbarrow for me.1:35 p.m. I spread compost while the dog cries because no one is petting her.2:00 p.m. My boxes are ready for the new season. I stop for some water.2:02 p.m. The dog knocks over Otto’s water cup.2:15 p.m. I decide to trim the side bushes.2:20 p.m. Monkey comes out to where I’m working to report that 1) it’s hot 2) Otto is making them work too hard and 3) the dog is crying because no one is petting her.2:30 p.m. The brush pile has been completely relocated. The children are sent inside to take showers.3:00 p.m. I tell Otto I’m done and am going in. He has finished digging and says he’ll be in once he gets the pipe laid. I may or may not respond to this statement with, “Oh, baby.”3:02 p.m. I take a shower.3:10 p.m. Chickadee asks me to look at the strap on her dress, because it feels “pokey.” Her brand new dress has a broken adjustor clip, likely from being manhandled by She Who Has No Concept Of Handling Things Gently. I grumble. She reluctantly agrees to wear something else.3:30 p.m. Otto returns, triumphant. I announce I am making mashed potatoes in his honor.3:31 p.m. I boil potatoes.4:05 p.m. Dinner! We thank God for the miracle of his son, and also mashed potatoes.5:00 p.m. Balderdash!6:00 p.m. Ice cream!7:00 p.m. Meltdowns! Did Monkey mention that the scooter was stupid? And also that he’s decided he’s never riding the bus again? And did you know that a 13-year-old who repeatedly brings home and throws away a lovingly packed lunch may be tasked with packing her own, and might then wail and cry that she doesn’t know HOW and it’s too HARD and she is so very SORRY? It’s true!8:00 p.m. Bedtime! Happy Easter, GO TO SLEEP NOW.

Sounds like a great day! Be warned – my children all make their own lunches, meaning most days they skip the lunch making and come home from school ravenous. Tuna sandwiches and fried eggs happen every afternoon.

Easter was wonderful. Coca Cola ham, asparagus, potato salad. If we could have gardened in pouring rain, we would have. Thunder and lightning decided it for us. :)

Josie managed to get similarly colorful road rash, from falling face-first off of the swings after an egg hunt on Saturday. And her fragile flower of a big brother got 4 paper cuts over the weekend, each of which required an independent bandaid.

Between them, and 4 egg hunt activities, they acquired approximately 1 gallon bag of candy. Because I am vying for meanest mom on earth, they were each allowed to keep 10 pieces. The rest will be donated to a family shelter this afternoon. Why should homeless children not get to experience sugar shock, and their mothers not have to deal with sugar-fueled insanity? We can pretend that some of this candy is not so bad — much of it involves peanuts or peanut butter.

Not quite as exciting or (Amazingly) kid drama filled. Our kids were up at 6:15AM! WTH. Dude, it’s Easter not Christmas. So, we had PLENTY of time to get ready, prepare brunch stuffs all before heading out for Mass. Oh, I blocked out a drama filled “But, I hate this dress, it’s not pretty, I’m not going to wear it meltdown” by the eldest. That was fun. Mass, brunch, Easter Egg hunt (only 2 meltdowns due to Cascarones, one from grandma-FTR-grandma does NOT like confetti filled eggs-and one from the littlest). Then, off to see Rio. We even sprung for popcorn and snacks. We are SUCH nice parents. The rest of the day was all art projects and chocolate bunny eating. The end.

Oh, except, my little now has a weird body rash. Seriously. if we have to go through what you guys are I might have a nervous breakdown!

How was our Easter? Well, when I read your Easter story including yard work, spilled drinks and meltdowns I thought, “That sounds so relaxing!” Mine included that crowded church, family, more family (second set bringing out childhood pictures to comment on what a loser I was), emotional eating and the laundry because it turns out school vacation is over and my kids think going to school naked would be “scarring”. Whatever.

I was woken up at 6:30 yesterday morning by my 8yo, who was getting dressed for church THREE HOURS before we leave, and ten minutes before she unwraps 40lbs of chocolate. Yeah, no, but I digress. She was STUCK in her dress because she neglected to untie the sash before putting her dress on. I was actually relieved, because the crying sounded more like “I’m sick and can’t celebrate Easter” crying.

Let’s see – spent a few hours fussing about a final project in order to get in the requisite hours of hand-wringing angst that all projects demand. Finished hiding candy packets in fiendishly difficult places (ie: top of fan blade; rolled halfway into a roll of bubble wrap; burrowed down inside the candy bag the candy originally came from). Hard-boiled an egg for project (no, really) and promptly forgot about it entirely. Skyped with 1 offspring. Welcomed 2.5 offspring (.5 is a delightful boyfriend) and set them loose in the house to find fiendishly difficult hiding places. Laughed at offspring. Took pity and began giving clever hints to remaining hiding places (‘I’m BUBBLING with enthusiasm!’). Sent 1.5 offspring off to work, cuddled with remaining sprog on couch and discussed the practicality or non of purchasing property in France and running a self-sustaining gite. Remembered we had BRAND NEW DOCTOR WHO recorded and watched it. Had delicious dinner and totally skived off cleaning the kitchen which, natch, I bitterly regretted this morning. Declared Last Easter With Almost All Offspring a success and played on an iPad until way too late at night before tumbling into bed!

Had a nervous breakdown. Then homework battles. Then wine.
Eventually we’ll be moved and have the whole family under one roof in the same state.
Going back under my desk to rock and suck my thumb now. ;)

Definitely could have been our Easter, if we were all in the same state …

My cats knock our water glasses over all the time. They do it on purpose, and then they lap the water up from the pool on the floor. Until we find what they have done and clean it up, cursing at them for their devious ways. Why we don’t learn, and stop leaving water glasses around, I will never know. There are many mysteries about myself that I prefer to leave unsolved.

your Easter sounds LOVELY. Around here it will go down in history as YELLFEST 2011. The 14 yr old male pushed me too far. TOO FAR. And I dropped my basket. I am not proud of it but I feel SO MUCH BETTER now.

Late morning start here, followed by a walk with my mom (we had a few items to pick up and going for walks is the best way to accomplish errands). Then we came home and did nothing for a couple of hours immediately followed by an early dinner (or very late lunch- it was 3:30 when we ate) of pasta with morel mushrooms in a cream sauce and then berries with vanilla mascarpone for dessert. After that it was off to our separate apartments. No meltdowns, no gardening (no garden), and no headaches! Also? No children.

“raised Jewish but converted to Christianity”…that kind of sums up how the whole thing started, doesn’t it?

Me? Oh, I had dinner with my mother and her 80-something year-old lady friends who should ALL be wearing purple. The lamb was a little tough and the British lady remarked quietly to her daughter, “I think it’s the lamb’s mother.” My mother had champagne and I had water. The Bourbon Pecan Pie was, apparently, chock-full of bourbon, but I had foolishly ordered the Dreamsicle cake.
It was all over by 4pm.
Thanks for asking.

Okay, The Other Leanne’s first comment is HILARIOUS! It kind of does sum it all up. ;)

Also, this line — “A couple of brave chocolate bunnies lose their butts to the miracle of the resurrection…” — is the best summary of Easter I’ve ever read in my entire life.

So, between mentioning how it all started “I was Jewish, but now I’m a Christian (and we’ll include the Gentiles in there, too. Together, they will eventually all be Catholic for a while — kind of — until some don’t want to be anymore, so they become various shades of Protestants)” to how it is today “Easter Bunnies lose their tails and ears in the name of Jesus Christ, amen” I do think you’ve got the entire season of Easter down.

Ours was…Easter bunny ding-dong-ditching us,but leaving mounds of toys and sugar, tantrum over new flashing police shoes not fitting perfectly (stupid bunny,) church, traditional Easter lunch of peanut butter and jelly, neighborhood egg hunt, excessive parental wine drinking, lots of tears over lots of nothing, and then all three kids to bed at 6:30 pm so parents could eat leftover Greek Easter food and eat ice cream. Bed by 10:00, which is unheard of around here and was amazing!

The weather here in Northeast Ohio was miserable, which contributed to my decision to lie around the house doing absolutely nothing all day. No yardwork, no cooking, kids gone, bf busy…..ahhhh life was good yesterday.

Your Easter sounds nice…Family that’s what Easter should be about.
My family got back from vacation the night before (the hubby came home from vaca sick) He didn’t want to get out of bed for the Easter Basket thing. Then our annual Easter Egg Hunt with our neighbors. Quite a lull with some cleaning. Then Easter dinner at the parents house. Family and some yummy candy

My Easter? Wake up after too little sleep, having stayed up too late finishing sermon, printing and folding bulletins, and attempting to write an Easter later. Finish and print Easter letter while attempting to eat breakfast (must not pass out!) and dress to look respectable. Dash off to church. Drag furniture (moved for Good Friday) back into place; smile and praise people who have showed up early to help move furniture. Chid server for coming in late, then appologize profusely when told said server’s dog died the day before. Feel like an ass. Deal with various minor emergencies and personal updates. Reherse with organist, who seems to play the same thing over and over despite repeated and specific instructions on what I would like (new organist, since the regular organist is out of town). Give up – good enough. Pull self together and start service. Realize I haven’t put on my vestments. Pause service; put on (gorgeous) vestments. Try again.

Lead wonderful, prayerful service with only a few hymns sung too slowly.

Come home. Reheat half a can of soup from the fridge. Give half-hearted look at massive mess in kitchen, living room, office. Crash.

I am single and childless. A dear friend thought it would be horrible for me to be alone, so she invited me to her home. With her five daughters, ages 4 to 13, her parents, her brother, his girlfriend, and one of her ex-husbands. It got a little noisy (think: the Gates of Hell have opened and the Devil is coming through) and I was a bit overwhelmed. Then daughter #2 took a tumble on the trampoline and started shrieking. My friend said, ‘She’s a drama queen’ and we need to ignore the antics. The child was given an ice pack and an advil. Fast forward several hours of hysterics later to discover her leg was actually broken. I am traumatized, and my friend is suffering from horrible guilt, added to by her mother and her ex.

Ironically, Easter & Christmas are when we don’t go to church. Too crowded, too much competition (aka-rushing around). We go most of the year (summer gets a little lax, but if Jesus wanted us to go all the time, why did he make beaches & sunshine so nice in the summer?) I figure God understands. If he doesn’t I’ve got a lot more to worry about than attendance. ;-)

Glad to hear your weekend (& holiday) were (mostly) uneventful. I think we ALL can use a little uneventful now and then.

We did the “easter” part of Easter last weekend due to storm damage/power outage and lack of electronic entertainment. It worked out nicely because the kids picked through their baskets and played with their new toys and LEFT ME ALONE about not having anything to do (which is a little odd, considering how much they love to play outside…)

Actually actual Easter was spent avoiding In-Law drama which was rife this weekend for some reason. I think they’re still grumpy a Democrat is sitting in the oval office. Heh.

Moved the electrical in the kitchen ceiling so our new light (yay!) will actually be centered over the new island when we hang it. Which went so well, we decided to go hang out and have dinner with the in-laws.